A man must fight for his planet against impossible odds when gamers from Earth attempt to remotely annihilate it in this epic, fast-paced novel from the New York Times bestselling author of the smash-hit Dungeon Crawler Carl.
All colonist Oliver Lewis ever wanted to do was run the family ranch with his sister, maybe play a gig or two with his band, and keep his family’s aging fleet of intelligent agriculture bots ticking as long as possible. He figures it will be a good thing when the transfer gate finally opens all the way and restores instant travel and full communication between Earth and his planet, New Sonora. But there’s a complication.
Even though the settlers were promised they’d be left in peace, Earth’s government now has other plans. The colossal Apex Industries is hired to commence an “eviction action.” But maximizing profits will always be Apex’s number one priority. Why spend money printing and deploying AI soldiers when they can turn it into a game? Why not charge bored Earthers for the opportunity to design their own war machines and remotely pilot them from the comfort of their homes?
The game is called Operation Bounce House.
Oliver and his friends soon find themselves fighting for their lives against machines piloted by gamers who’ve paid a premium for the privilege. With the help of an old book from his grandfather and a bucket of rusty parts, Oliver is determined to defend the only home he’s ever known.
Don't just take our word for it...
“Irreverent yet heartfelt, nostalgic yet wholly original, with Operation Bounce House, Dinniman delivers another anarchic adventure rich with riotous characters and a plot that crackles towards chaos with all the alacrity of a dynamite fuse.”
– Pierce Brown, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Red Rising Saga
“What if the toxic corporate interests of Earth tasked its most toxic gamers with doing their colonialist bidding? What if their insignificant incel reign of terror reached beyond the borders of their parents’ basements and bedrooms, and they were all given remote command of real weapons of war on another world? Matt Dinniman has cooked us all up a deliciously terrifying gamer geek stew, mixing up Avatar and Ender’s Game, with a dash of The Last Starfighter and Independence Day thrown in.”
– Ernest Cline, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Ready Player One
“Fast-paced, clever, and with plenty of heart—the rare book that’s both thoughtful and tremendously entertaining.”
– James Islington, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Will of the Many
Taste the very first page
Oliver, you must remove yourself from bed. Priscilla is missing.”
I opened one eye, groaned, and rolled over. My pounding head felt as if it was caught in a press. My lips felt burned and cracked. I’m still drunk. Christ, how did I even get home?
The floating, humming form of Roger moved closer to my head. “Oliver, are you still inebriated? You must get up. Priscilla is missing.”
“Who the hell is Priscilla?”
Zap.
“Ow, fuck!” I cried, sitting up in bed, rubbing my arm.
Zap.
“Roger, stop. Jesus.”
Roger’s correction stinger crackled with electricity. It retracted back into the robot’s abdomen with a metallic shing.
“Rule number four,” the floating robot said. “No swearing.”
“I know the rule, Roger. Why are you in my room? Even if I was still going to school, it’s Saturday.” I blinked a few times, still disoriented, trying to remember what Roger had said. I had dirt and grass on my arms. I pulled the blanket back to reveal sheets covered with mud, like I’d been dragged home and then unceremoniously dumped into bed. “It is Saturday, right?
“It is Saturday indeed, Oliver. To answer your improperly formatted query, Priscilla is one of the honeybee scouts. She must be retrieved. That is why I am here. No other honeybee assets are available to do the job, as all are engaged in the harvest or undergoing scheduled maintenance. This means you must do the retrieval. I will accompany you.”
One of the honeybee drones? My arm throbbed, and my mind still swirled with fog. It’d been a while since Roger had corrected me. I’d forgotten how much it hurt.
“I can’t believe you stung me.”
“I was under the impression you didn’t swear anymore, Oliver.”
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